


Nightmare

by fvckingavengers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Drabble, F/M, Rimming, Smut, this is shameless filth tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvckingavengers/pseuds/fvckingavengers
Summary: yet again, another drabble from my Tumblr. feedback? enjoy.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 64





	Nightmare

Loss. Greif. Shock. Pain. Depression.

Half of the world’s living things ceased to exist with the snap of his fingers.

Vanished into thin air.

Behind your closed eyelids, all you see is barren desert. A winding road that goes on for miles and miles. Sand. Dry, dead grass. The heat is stifling. It makes you dizzy. Gets caught in your throat and you feel it start to choke you.

He calls your name. It’s faint. In the distance. But you still hear it.

Slowly, he emerges in front of you.

And he looks more beautiful than ever.

Long brown hair pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck with tresses falling in his face. A thick, corse beard covering his cheeks. His smile is pearly white and it reaches his eyes. Fine lines crinkle there, though he resembles nothing of his age.

You want to reach out to him. To follow him to the ends of the earth.

But you can’t.

He’s a mirage. A fever dream. A hallucination.

A cruel trick your mind plays on you.

A gasp echoes around the shower walls and you steady yourself against the glass as your eyes shoot open. Steam overflows and fogs otherwise transparent fiber. 

With the turn of a knob, the water runs cold. Frigid. Chills run down your spine and you blink rapidly to bring yourself back to a lucid state.

It’s been five years since the battle in Wakanda.

What happened after the events is fuzzy in your mind. You stood strong for as long as you could manage. Drank the pain and misery away, shoved all of your grief and sorrow deep down inside until it all came erupting out of you like a volcano.

Steve picked you back up and put you on your feet.

America’s golden boy. God’s righteous man. The modern day Hercules.

But that part of him had died that day.

The light inside of him dimmed and flickered until it was no more. His edges had been burned and frayed and hardened. No more optimistic, glass half full kind of mindset.

Thanos had chewed him up and spat him out, and it opened his eyes. Made him see that he couldn’t save the world this time.

The two of you left New York. Couldn’t live with the ghosts that haunted you there. Claimed to be searching for an answer to solve all of it. But you both knew that you were running. Desperate to escape the guilt and ignore your emotions.

Headed up to Canada to assess the damage there for a year or so. Drove back over the boarder, weaving from state to state, staying with friends along the way.

-

_“So, what have you guys found in midwest that’s kept you there for over a month?” Natasha asks over the phone, genuinely curious._

_You sway back and forth in a rocking chair on the front porch of a farm house. Your eyes close for a brief moment and you tilt your head up as a breeze rolls by. The sun is setting behind a blanket of sycamore trees and for just a moment, you’re at peace._

_“I have an old friend that lives here. Owns a farm. Kinda reminds me of Clint’s place. Speaking of, have you found any trace of him?”_

_Natasha sighs heavily and you hear the buttons of a keyboard clack aggressively on the other side of the call. “Found plenty traces, but he’s gone by the time any of us can get to him. And don’t change the subject,” she scolds. “Who the hell do you know in Smallville, Kansas?”_

_Of course she’s tracking you. What on earth would lead you to believe that she wouldn’t be tracking you?_

_She can hear you swallow the lump in your throat before you cough softly. “Clark Kent.”_

_“Clark Kent?” Natasha repeats to herself, thinking over why that name rings a bell. “Superman?” She exclaims in disbelief. “How - w-when -” She stammers._

_“Friends in high school, dated in college. That’s all the info I care to divulge. Nat, I gotta go, supper’s ready. Call you in a few days.”_

_She starts to argue, but you end the call and head inside to wash up before setting the table._

_-_

Things changed that night.

It was late August, and although there was still a month until autumn, the nights were growing colder.

-

_“Where’s the bourbon in this place?” Steve asks in a low, almost growling tone as he opens and too harshly shuts various cabinet doors. “Isn’t Kansas known for their bourbon?”_

_“That’s Kentucky.” You correct, brows furrowed as your eyes follow him closely._

_The three of you had just finished dinner. Light conversation flowed, everything was fine. Until something shifted._

_“Hey, ease up there, Rogers. No need to break anything.” Steve ignores you and continues moving about the kitchen. You look at Clark with an apologetic expression._

_“Nothing I haven’t broken and repaired in this house.” Clark chuckles as he gets up from his chair. “I keep the hard stuff in the cellar out back. I’ll go grab a bottle.”_

_Before Steve can cause anymore damage, you snake between him and cupboards. “What the hell is your problem? Clark’s been nothing but nice to you and you wanna start acting like a dick?”_

_Steve huffs out a dry laugh and looks down at you. “Oh yeah, he’s real nice. I see the way he looks at you. Like he’s just waiting to make a move when I’m not looking. And you parade yourself around in those little shorts and low cut shirts. What would Bucky think?”_

_A loud slap resonates inside of the kitchen. He didn’t even have the excuse of alcohol running through his veins and clouding his mind to defend the act of accusing you of such things. He’s stunned for a moment. Steps back from you and places a hand over the reddening mark on his cheek while his jaw nearly hangs on the floor._

_You’re fuming. Rightfully so. Your hand balls into a fist and you draw back before throwing a punch to his jaw. Your knuckles crack from the harsh contact and he stumbles back slightly._

_“You are so out of line, Steve. Not to mention fucking delirious if you think something’s going on between Clark and I.” A heavy sigh slips through lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose to alleviate the tension headache forming in your skull. “Go upstairs and pack your stuff. We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”_

_“You can’t tell me what to do-” Steve starts to argue, but flinches backwards when you square up to him._

_“You really wanna push me right now, Rogers? I will get in the car and leave your sorry ass right here, right now without so much as a second thought.”_

_The screen door slams shut and Clark walks in to see you glowering at Steve. “Everything okay? What’d I miss?” He squints his eyes and looks at Steve’s face. “Woah, your lip is bleeding. What happened?”_

_“Nothing.” You answer for the blonde. “Steve was just calling it a night.” Your eyes are like daggers that pierce through him until he has no choice but to comply. He doesn’t spare a look back at Clark as he heads towards the staircase._

_You wipe away a stray tear from the corner of you eye before it has the chance to fall and point to the glass in his hand. “I’ll take some of that.” Your voice wavers. Clark picks up on it, but he keeps it to himself as he grabs two tumblers from the freezer._

_~_

_6 o’clock the next evening._

_You’ve been driving for hours on end in silence. Steve chances a look in your direction every few minutes, even opens his mouth to speak a few times, but no words come out._

_It takes another hour for him to gather enough courage to say something._

_He says your name with a soft sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I was outta line.”_

_“Way out of line.” You rectify, keeping your gaze on the road ahead. “The line was in Kansas and you were in Fiji. You know, jealousy really is a terrible color on you.”_

_Steve gapes at you as you turn into the parking lot of a hotel. Between silently seething over Steve and the drive, you were exhausted. California could wait one more day._

_“Don’t look at me like that. You and Bucky are more alike than you know. You both have the same tell.” After shutting the engine off, you grab your bag from the backseat and make your way to the lobby. Steve pouts, but follows._

_“What would make you think I’m jealous?” He questions once inside the suite you’ve rented for the night._

_“Why else would you care how Clark looked at me? How he touched me?” Your voice lowers from it’s usual octave and it makes Steve stiffen._

_He has trouble meeting your eyes when you step closer to him. “Bucky…”_

_You shake your head and huff out a laugh, genuinely amused that he’d use that excuse. “You’re a shitty liar. You never lie to me, so why are you doing it now?” He stays silent and you grow more annoyed by the second._

_You walk over to your bag and take out the bottle of bourbon Clark let you keep from his cellar. Steve watches you move around the room, gathering two glasses and taking a seat on the couch. He takes the glass offered to him and sits on the other end of the sofa._

_He chuckles softly and takes a long sip, humming as the alcohol burns as it slides down into his belly. “Get me drunk, that’s your plan?”_

_“If it’s what it takes for you to tell me what I want I wanna know.” Your tone is serious, but soft. You lock eyes with Steve and hold his stare, trying to peak inside of his mind. It’s only been minutes of silence but it feels like hours. You knock back the contents in your glass and set it on the console table._

_Steve’s eyes widen when you kneel between his spread legs. The oxygen leaves his lungs and he has a difficult time getting it to return. His mouth goes dry and he tries to look somewhere else in the room. Anywhere other than at you. But you put your hands on his knees and he’s stuck. Enticed. Curious._

_“You don’t have to feel guilty, you know.” Steve tries to slow his breathing to a more acceptable rate. He’s nervous that you can hear his heart pound against his chest. Your hands are idle, but he can feel the burn of your flesh through the black denim of his jeans. “Buck wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to look after me the way that you have. It’s been three years, Steve. That’s a lot of time to spend with a person.”_

_“What are you getting at?” He finally speaks. It’s a little gruff, but it’s a front._

_A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth and you shake your head. “M’not gonna say it for you. Not gonna let you cop out like that. You and me, we’re stuck together, baby. When you wanna finally admit it to yourself, to me, I won’t be far away.”_

_You rise onto your feet and turn to head to your room, but feel a hand wrap around your wrist to restrict you from straying. Steve’s standing, towering over you with his breath fanning over your face._

_“What do you want me to admit?” His deep voice sends shivers down your spine. His fingers tighten around your wrist. It stings slightly, but it’s not an unwelcome feeling. He anchors you._

_“That I want you? That I’ve wanted you for a long time now, and the thought of Clark - of anyone else touching you, kissing you, fucking you, makes me wanna run my fist through the drywall?”_

_You’re the breathless one now. Slack-jawed and doe-eyed. Your back meets a hard surface and suddenly you’re caged in._

_Then, in an instant of a second, a switch flips and adrenaline buzzes through your veins._

_“What’s stopping you now? You wanna touch me?” You reach out and curl your hand around his shirt, pulling him closer to your body. “Kiss me?” Steve shudders from the whisper spoken close to his lips. “Fuck me?” There’s a raspiness to your tone that makes him weak. Makes his dick twitch against your thigh._

_Steve’s fist pounds into the wall just beside your head. You don’t flinch. You know he’s left a hole in the structure without having to look at it. He turns his back to you, running a hand through his hair and finishing the bourbon in his glass._

_“What are you so scared of? That he’s gonna come barging through that door at any second? Because I was his, and it’s wrong, and we shouldn’t?”_

_Steve sighs deeply. Defeated. “I can’t do a one night stand with you.” His head hangs. “It’s not enough. I can’t have one taste of you and call it quits. I won’t want to.”_

_“Who said you can’t have more?”_

_He lets your words sink in for a moment. You can hear the gears turning in his head along with your heart thumping in your ears. Just as you’re about to give up the fight, he has you pinned against the wall once more. Swept off your feet with your legs wrapped around his waist and his mouth on yours._

_His kiss is possessive. He’s wanted this for longer than you realized, maybe longer than he realized, and it shows in the way his tongue dominates yours and his grip in your hair._

_The room grows thirty degrees hotter than it was when you walked in and it’s suffocating. Clothes are shed and forgotten, torn fabric falling to the floor as desire becomes too overwhelming to bear. You lick and nip at his neck as he brings you to the couch and sets you on his lap._

_“Wait,” Steve holds you at arms length. You’re crestfallen. The fear of rejection is written across your face._

_But he smiles._

_The first authentic smile you’ve seen him wear in a long, long time._

_He cradles your face in his left hand and strokes your cheek softly. “I just wanted to look at you. A minute to take you in.”_

_It’s in that moment that you know there’s no going back to the way things used to be. A flame ignites within your core, and you melt for him._

_“Minute’s over.” A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth and you reach between his legs and take his cock in your hand, lining him at your entrance before sinking down to his thighs._

_He has your hips in a vice grip and he leans his head to rest against the back of the couch. Not for one second does he take his eyes off of you. He looks at you as if he’s trying to memorize you. The way your hair falls in your face as you bounce on top of him. The way your eyes roll back when he reaches a deliciously deep part inside of you._

_He pulls you close as your hips roll against his, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling gently. The moan you emit makes him weak. He feels safe in your arms when they cradle his head and he looks up at you with such adoration in his eyes. That’s what sends you over the edge. Makes you constrict around his length and bury your face in the crook of his neck._

_Steve fucks you three more times that night - until the hotel manager is knocking on the door from multiple noise complaints._

-

A thick, corse beard scratching against your shoulder blade pulls you from memory lane and back to reality. Muscular arms wrap around your torso and you absentmindedly trace over his veins with your fingertips.

“Water’s freezing, ya know. How long you been in here?” Steve asks, words mumbled from his lips pressing to your wet, slicked back hair.

The shaky breath you release catches his attention. He allows you to turn in his embrace to face him before pulling you closer, his rough hands moving slowly up and down your back. Ocean eyes that resemble the pacific just outside stare down at you, and you could lose yourself in them.

Rising on your toes and pulling him in by the back of his neck, your lips meet. Water droplets like ice pellets fall from the shower head, cascading down his cheeks and into your mouths.

Steve has the softest lips. Plump and pink. Whispering sweet nothings and swearing sinful promises. He tastes like the cigarettes that he insists he doesn’t smoke and the fresh mint mouthwash stationed at the sink.

His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, igniting the itch, the need for him and his touch.

You don’t want to think. Don’t want to be in control. You want to relinquish that power to him. You’re breathless when you break the kiss. Steve can see it on your face. You swear that he’s picked up mind reading as a new skill over the time that you’ve grown more intimate with one another.

He nods in answer to your silent plea, gliding his thumb over your lip. “Safe word?” His voice is gruff. Demanding that you say the bail out phrase before he indulges you.

You hold Steve’s hand to your mouth and bite his thumb gently. Playfully. His expression hardens slightly, just enough to make you say the word. “Winter.” Your voice is soft and your eyes shine in the afternoon sun as it filters through the skylight.

He nods, satisfied. “Good girl.”

Praise. It’s so simple, but efficient in producing slick between your thighs.

“Now,” Steve presses a kiss to your temple before taking your hair in his fist and pushing you down to the shower tile. “On your knees.”

He’s already hard and standing erect when you sink to the floor. Saliva collects inside of your mouth from the sight. Thick. Veiny. Simply immaculate.

You start at the base, your tongue sliding up from his balls to just beneath his rounded head and back, and you repeat the action until you’ve tasted every inch of his cock. His hand stays in your hair, following, not guiding your head, but giving a forceful tug every time your eyes divert from his gaze.

He loves you like this. Shameless in the way that you want him. He makes a mental note to record a video of you on his phone while in this exact position. You flash a grin at him and his knees buckle. You’re enjoying this as much, if not more than he is.

“Dirty little girl.” Steve chuckles darkly and taps your mouth with his leaking tip. “Spit on it. Take me deep like I know you can.”

Arousal floods between your legs and you find yourself aching for him. His length is halfway down your throat and he could cum right then and there if he wanted to. But he’s gonna make you work for it.

You focus on breathing through your nose as you take him farther, gagging slightly with drool spilling out from the corners of your mouth. Steve hisses when you swallow around him, your throat constricting and making him emit obscene sounds. Your name reverberates around the shower walls when you bob your head back and forth and Steve has to steady himself on the glass.

“You want it, baby?” His husky voice asks as he wraps his hand around his shaft, jacking himself off while you suck gently on his tip. “You want me to cum? Want me to paint your pretty face?”

Easing off of him, you nod and rest on your haunches, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue.

“Oh, fuck yes.” He groans, biting into his bottom lip and twisting his wrist until he gives into his release. He fights to keep his eyes from closing, not wanting to miss a single second of you taking his load and scooping it off of your face with a finger and swallowing it down. 

“C’mere, beautiful.” Steve lifts you from the ground and holds you underneath the spray to rinse yourself off. “So good,” He squeezes your ass and spanks it. “So. Fucking. Good. To me.” He glorifies you between kisses.

The water shuts off and you’re wrapped up in a warm, plush white towel. Steve does his best to dry you off while his mouth is attached to your neck, leaving marks that are sure to last a few days. He strides into the bedroom and drops you onto the bed, kneeling at the edge and pinning your legs apart before diving in.

“ **Steveeee…** ” You whimper loudly. Your back arches and your hands curl around the satin sheets. His tongue works against your clit and he alternates between licking and sucking. Edging you on but keeping your orgasm at bay.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby girl?” Steve uses one hand to slide two fingers into your cunt while the other rubs harsh circles on your bundle.

You don’t answer his question. Too consumed by pleasure to form words.

“Hey,” Steve slaps your pussy, making your hips jolt upward. Your walls tighten around his digits and he gives another smack before continuing his tirade on your clit. “I asked you something. Use your words like a good girl. How do you want me to fuck you?” His voice is lower, harsher than before. It sends shivers down your spine and makes you throb between your legs.

“Want you to fuck me in the ass.” You whine, voice hoarse from overuse.

Steve likes your reply. He flips you onto your stomach and forces your hips up until you’re resting with your knees up and face to the mattress. You hear a hum rumble from deep inside Steve’s chest from the view in front of him.

He kneads your cheeks and separates them before spitting right onto your asshole. His tongue strokes the puckered flesh and his beard scratches against the back of your thighs, making you wiggle against his face.

You feel him shift behind you and you try to sneak a glance, but he doesn’t allow. Steve slowly pushes into you, stretching you with every inch and making you cry out as the pressure builds inside of you. He spanks you and trusts into you deeper and harder. Gripping your hips so fiercely that they bruise under his touch.

“Who owns your sexy ass, baby?” Steve snarls.

“You do!” Your voice is muffled by the comforter and your toes curl.

Steve wraps an arm around your chest and pulls you up on your knees, his hips never faltering as they piston into you. He takes the shell of your ear between his teeth and snakes his other hand between your legs, easily sliding three fingers into your cunt and curling the appendages against your sweet spot until you’re writhing in his arms.

“And what about this sweet little pussy? Who does that belong to?”

You’re so close to the brink of orgasm. Your vision starts to fade to black and you can see stars twinkling from behind your eyes. “You, Steve. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

Your voice betrays you, so your words come out strained and hoarse. Steve lays one more rough slap to your mound growls in your ear, “Cum.”

Your nails claw down his arms, drawing blood as the coil in your belly snaps and sends you reeling. Steve holds you tight, letting you ride out the orgasm as it ripples through you until it subsides and you’re left trembling. He pulls out of you slowly, and lays you down on your back.

He caresses your body softly now as you share a deep kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, along with the faint tingle of mint and stale cigarette from earlier.

“That what you needed?” Steve asks against your lips, making you laugh softly when he begins peppering your face with kisses. 

“Yes,” You giggle, cupping his face in your hands, tenderly stroking the scruff on his cheeks. “Thank you.” You murmur, nuzzling your nose against his.

The sound of Steve’s phone ringing from his pants pocket on the floor makes him sigh. “Don’t thank me just yet.” He pecks your forehead and moves to retrieve the device. “I’m not done with you.” He winks and the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk.

But it leaves his face all too quickly. His expression falls and he looks almost pale. You get up in an instant, crossing over to him and making him look at you. He meets your gaze and gulps down the lump in his throat.“…Bucky?”


End file.
